


Duality of the observer

by Yaminohitsuji



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 18:21:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6020253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaminohitsuji/pseuds/Yaminohitsuji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allen Walker is an observer, Kanda Yuu is that which he observes. They say that the act of observation changes that which is observed, could they be right?</p><p>Or the one in which Allen Walker has a complete emotional breakdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The observer

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimers apply- I own nothing but the plot, such as it is.
> 
> Enjoy!

1\. The observer 

   
Allen Walker was an observer. 

He did not possess a great eye for detail like Lavi, nor did he have Lena’s innate understanding of others. He was simply fascinated by nuances; the idiosyncrasies that made up the world around him and those it encompassed. 

Take the current situation, for instance. The Black Order was tense; the atmosphere was heavy with distrust and unease. And yet, here they sat; eating and laughing, at complete contrast to the situation around them. 

However, as Allen sat and joked, the mask of his smile etched firmly in place, he continually observed. He observed how Lavi’s easy smile never reached his eyes and the almost imperceptible tremor in his hands at human contact – the horrors bestowed upon him by the Noah not quite forgotten. He saw the sweet hint of pink dusting Lena’s cheeks when Lavi’s eyes met hers and the way in which, unconsciously, she repeatedly touched those around her. Her desperate need for reassurance of their presence made evident. He noticed how the unfettered animosity evident in Kanda’s dark eyes was slowly being replaced by uneasy concern, how his barbed comments were now more habitual then openly malicious. 

And the way in which the sunlight sparkled in his flawless hair, trapped like stars in the darkness… 

Pausing briefly in the inhalation of his dinner, he considered the appropriateness of that last thought. Once satisfied that it held no ulterior meaning, he resumed the attack on his dango. 

Kanda fascinated him. He accepted and understood this fact. The man was a walking idiosyncrasy. Kanda was, inarguably, a bastard. Antisocial and callous, he took great pleasure in aggravating the hell out of those around him. In almost complete contrast, however, he was stunningly beautiful. Every feature perfect and aligned-from pale chiselled features, to that infuriatingly immaculate, long black hair. He was like a statue –impeccable yet unreachable. 

Chewing thoughtfully, eyes never leaving the object of his musings, Allen let his mind take over completely. The interesting thing, he ruminated, was that even Kanda’s obstinate personality was ruled by a nobility of sorts. He was a samurai in every sense of the word. Prepared to live a solitary existence rather than endanger the ones he cared most about. Allen let his eyes follow the fall of Kanda’s hair, as it brushed briefly across delicate yet inherently masculine hands. Slim and dexterous, made callused by hours of training with the sword. He wondered how those fingers would feel brushing down his spine….. 

“What the mmmgggfgbl!?” 

The peaceful joviality of the scene was interrupted by a sudden outburst from Allen, apparently trying to choke on his own tongue. 

Lena turned startled eyes towards him. “Umm…Allen are you okay?” She asked, voice filled with nervous humour. 

“Yeah. I’m great. Just, you know dango not going down. Hahahaha. Down. Ugh.” Allen suddenly jumped up from the table, face red and eyes wide. 

“You’re an idiot, Moyashi.” Came Kanda’s flat monotone. 

“Yes thanks for that Bakanda, constructive as ever...” He trailed off for a moment, blinking rapidly. “You just keep eating, you know, with your hands. Hands, because you hold your chopsticks with your hands…” Allen was now practically vibrating and descending into meaningless babble.  

Three pairs of disconcerted eyes stared at him wordlessly. 

Right. Well I have to go and, go and...so yeah…” With once last mad smile, he turned and practically flew out of the room. His internal scream of mortification so loud, he was truly surprised that no one could hear it. 

“Che. Fucking weirdo”. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

As Allen hurriedly propelled himself down endless corridors, seeking the sanctity of his room, his observational predilection was turned inwards. 

 _WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL???_  

 _Where in the_ ** _WORLD_** _had that come from?_ Ok, he accepted that he was fascinated with Kanda, physically and emotionally, but it was wholly objective! He was a subject to be observed not an object of…of… 

Of what exactly? 

Ok, so he’d considered how Kanda’s hands on his skin would feel. So what? It was curiosity. The calloused nature of Kanda’s fingers would be an interesting sensation and his spine was exceptionally sensitive…so it was perfectly reasonable to imagine him leisurely trailing his fingers… 

Allen’s harried pace came to an abrupt stop (causing the finder behind him to perform an outstanding feat of acrobatics in order to avoid a collision) as his face heated up considerably and there was a distinct… _twinge_ in a wholly unexpected area of his anatomy. Curiosity was one thing but _leisurely trailing_ _his fingers_ …what was that? That was, did he, did he _desire_ Kanda, was that what this was? He’d always been emotionally attracted to the man in a weird sort of way, but to physically desire him…? Completely unsettled and floundering in confusion, Allen adopted his previous pace in the (general) direction of his chambers, his thoughts a maelstrom in his mind. Well _thought_ , anyway. 

 _WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL???_  

Three hours, one near death experience and an irate scientist later and Allen finally sank into the confines of his bed, somewhat calmer and able to rationalize the unexpected change in his perceptions of his dark haired cohort. They say that to observe something changes its nature, perhaps in the act of observation he’d changed himself as well? His simple curiosity had become uninhibited fascination and he had come to understand and admire the older man somewhat…and it was an undeniable truth that the guy was beautiful. So, in a nutshell he was attracted to Kanda. Ok. Deal with that thought first. It was perfectly natural. He was sixteen (probably, well _possibly_ , well definitely around the age that puberty was inclined to make an appearance anyway,) developing a _specific_ type of maturity and spent a lot of time around, and directly observing an attractive and enigmatic individual.  

Who was a complete and utter ass.  

Sighing, he stretched his arms up above his head and took a long drawn out breath. The one sure thing among all of this uncertainty was that Kanda must NOT find out. That way led to sure and painful death. Or at the very least sure and painful pain. No. This was the simple curiosity of a sexually maturing teenager. He just needed to accept it and move on. He could continuing observing Kanda, avoiding all _subversive_ thought (his mind, suddenly traitorous, completely rejected the idea of avoidance and he had to reign it in) and just be aware of the underlying attraction to avoid any recurrence of that rather…embarrassing scene earlier. 

Drawing the curtains and snuggling into his pillow, Allen decided that a nice long night’s sleep may be productive. A chance encounter on an already rattled psyche most definitely was not. Thus, he ignored his loudly protesting stomach and attempted to get some rest. Matter dealt with and plan in place, he sank into a restful doze. 

It would be simple. 

Ah. How wrong he was. 

   
 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like, and thanks for reading.
> 
> This is my first submission to this site. Constructive criticism and advice is welcomed. So feel free to leave a comment. (hint hint)


	2. That which is observed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again standard disclaimer applies.
> 
> Enjoy!

2\. That which is observed 

 

Kanda was having a particularly difficult morning.  

It had begun with the disruption of his strict morning training regime. He was already somewhat irritated by the fact the he was having to train alone. Despite investigating all of his usual morning haunts, the Moyashi was nowhere to be found. Thus a disgruntled Kanda (made more so by the realisation that he now found it necessary to actively seek out the troublesome brat) had made his way to the training halls, oddly disappointed that he wouldn't be trading blows with an easily incensed beansprout. Once there, matters quickly turned from bad to worse. That infuriatingly madcap scientist with his equally annoying sister complex had decided that today would be the day he debuted his latest Komuin monstrosity _: The defender of virtue._ Of course, as was ever the way, and seeing as Komui was more idiot than savant, it was inherently flawed. As Kanda was moving through the first set of _suburi_ _,_ he was interrupted by a very unexpected chainsaw, intent on decapitating him. 

Apparently, Komui had neglected to programme the bastard machine to distinguish between males with amorous intent and those with anything but. 

Needless to say, he’d destroyed the blasted thing and threatened the idiot scientist to within an inch of his miserable life, but the training room had been rendered unusable in the skirmish. He was thus forced to move his regime outside. 

After half an hour of obviously flawless sword drills, he was beginning to feel slightly calmer, that is to say less inclined to indiscriminate acts of homicidal wrath. However, God was evidently pissed at him today, as almost immediately after he’d moved into the finishing kata, the heavens opened and let loose with righteous fury. Kanda was no stranger to training in the rain, but even his impeccable skills were sorely tested when hail stones the size of small rodents were pelting down around his head. 

Soaking, and now thoroughly disgruntled, he had no choice but to retreat back into the order and towards the showers. To finish this most perfect of mornings, his last hair tie had become so drenched that it broke under the weight of his dripping hair and as he had to wait an ungodly amount of time for an unoccupied stall he didn’t even have time to meditate before breakfast. 

Thus it was that his current mood was really in no way conducive to breakfasting with that damned friggin weird Moyashi and his unfathomable and out of character behaviour. 

For the last 20 minutes Kanda been trying to ignore the cloying wetness of his untamed hair and concentrate on the soba before him. This was a challenge in itself, but his efforts were further hampered by the disquieting sensation of that damned brats incessant stare, burning a hole in his head. 

For once the brat was silent. A peculiar rarity in itself, the only sound uttered was the ceaseless mastication of whatever God awful slop he’d opted for that morning. However, his fucking eyes were glued on Kanda and this was making him increasingly and excessively infuriated (wholly exacerbated by the unexpected feeling of coquettish embarrassment caused by the brats constant appraisal). 

Finally, when it felt like the twitching of his eyebrows was actually going to vibrate them off of his face, he could take it no longer; he slammed his chopsticks down, snapped his neck up and growled dangerously at the perpetrator: 

“What.The.Fuck,Moyashi.” 

The individual in question seemed momentarily perplexed, his gaze, that had been previously and so in-fortuitously engaged, seemed to drift inwards, into his own personal reality and his brows scrunched up in innocent confusion. 

“Huh?” Was his intelligent reply. 

Kanda ground his teeth in un-tempered frustration. 

“You’ve been staring at me for the last 20 fucking minutes, Baka. What the fuck!?” 

Allen was not, apparently, fully aware of the current situation, mind still occupied by whatever fleeting thought was passing through It, hence his answer: 

“Hmm…oh. Your hair, it’s just so…beautiful. It’s beautiful.” 

The sudden silence generated by that last, inconceivable reply was broken by the deadly sound of a katana being unsheathed. 

Allen’s well-honed survival instinct took that moment to force him back to reality, and for the second time in so many days he sprang up from his chair as if burned. 

“Ahahahahaha!” He garbled, manically. “That is, umm, no, I was… but it’s usually up and I don’t…” 

The swing off the sword missed Allen’s head by millimetres as he ducked frantically; white wisps of fluffy hair fluttering down around it like snow. Within seconds, an incensed Kanda had launched himself across the table, Allen darting under it and hurtling towards the exit, wailed apologies littering the air in his wake. 

With an inhuman snarl, the samurai neatly sliced the breakfast table in two, narrowly avoiding Lavi’s head in the process. 

As Kanda stormed out of the cafeteria, emanating a wholly murderous aura, the rest of the table could do nothing but look on in dumbfounded disbelief. 

This went on for some time. 

The impasse was finally broken by an amused Lavi: 

“Well, that was interesting dontcha think?” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks for reading so far. 
> 
> Hope you continue to enjoy. :-)


	3. The act of observation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimers....blah blah blah...
> 
> As always, enjoy!

3\. The act of observation

   
 Once again Allen found himself sprinting through the corridors of the order, internally cursing his penchant for contemplation. 

WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY THAT **_OUT LOUD_**??? 

However, on this occasion, he didn’t find himself to be completely at fault. Kanda must, surely, appreciate the effect his hair, in its loosened state could have? 

He had been enraptured, yet again, by the man’s intrinsic dualities. Even when loose and _wet_ (of all things) his hair was flawless, serene. In complete contrast to his tight and puckered face. The wet strands adhering to every contour of his uneasy glower was captivating. 

His tortuous imagination (having completely ignored his internal request to stay _away_ from seditious thoughts) had been tantalising him with images of that hair caught between his fingers, languishing across his lips… 

He had been so engrossed that the… _unfortunate_ remark had escaped, completely unchecked. 

He stopped, momentarily to catch his breath and endeavour to regain a measure of his absent composure. Leaning heavily against the wall, he approached the idea of simply explaining the situation to Kanda, perhaps if he attempted a rational conversation with the man… 

“OI MOYASHI! GET BACK HERE AND DIE YOU BASTARD BAKA!” 

On second thoughts, perhaps not. Kanda’s rationality had never extended past the battlefield. Spurred on by fear of impending death, Allen raced on praying that for once, his infernal sense of direction would cut him some slack, the stream of blasphemous threats to his person edging ever closer. 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… 

A mere 10 minutes later and one lucky obstacle (but very _un_ lucky finder) and for once, his fortune held. After rounding a heretofore unknown corner safety was in sight. He hit the door to his room running, and locked it behind him, before collapsing into an ungraceful heap on the bed. 

He could hear Kanda’s frustrated growls from beyond the door, well he could growl all he wanted. At least, for the moment…. 

BAM! 

Allen’s reprieve was short lived as a livid Kanda unceremoniously kicked in his door. 

(Even in his currently mortified state, Allen couldn’t help but observe the irony when the man turned and neatly closed the door behind him.) 

Without so much as a grunt, the glimmering blood-red katana cut a swathe from the wall, where Allen’s head had been a mere half-second before. 

A well timed roll had him across the room and backed up against the wall as Kanda spun to face him, sword outstretched and eyes aglow. 

“Can we not talk about this…” 

_Swish_ and another chunk of wall was sent flying. 

“Guess that’s a no then” He griped from under the chair. 

As the chair splintered above him, his terror quickly switched to indignation and the blade, this time, was impeded by a deformed black claw. 

“ _So I was looking at you dammit, deal with it!”_  

The sudden invocation of innocence momentarily surprised Kanda, enough for Allen to land a rather satisfying right hook, pushing him back and allowing the former to stand. 

“It’s what you _said_ , baka.” Kanda snarled, lunging forwarding. 

Again sword was deflected by claw. As another little chunk of the wall floated downwards, Allen felt his eyebrows begin to twitch. 

“For the love of God, Kanda, I only said your damn hair was…” 

“Beautiful. I’m not a fucking girl, Moyashi.” 

The ridiculousness of this statement stunned Allen into immobility. Sighing theatrically, he buried his head in his claw. 

“Wonderful Kanda. You’re going on a rampage because of a word? Of all the…” 

“Twin illusion blades.” 

Allen hastily attached his cowl to the ceiling, and as Kanda’s dual katana tore through his dresser beneath him, he felt the last of his patience collapse. 

“It was a fucking COMPLIMENT, Bakanda!”He snarled, shooting downwards. 

Moving in to parry, Kanda hissed at him: 

“Who’d want to be complimented by a freak like you!” 

Jumping back, Allen deftly replaced his hurt surprise with his habitual counterfeit smile. Okay. Now he was truly _pissed_. (And just a tiny, tiny little bit disappointed.) 

“Ah, so it’s not the fact that I _said_ you were attractive” He said calmly, invoking his own blade, “but the fact that it was _me_ who finds you so, so… _damned_ attractive!” He said stepping forwards and unable to completely disguise the tremor in his voice. 

Kanda, however, remained immobile, just staring blankly back at him. 

Exhaling loudly, Allen looked down. 

“Fine. I’ll wait while that sluggish brain of yours catches up to the conversation” He drawled, idly inspecting his sword. 

Nothing. 

Glancing upwards, Allen nearly dropped his sword in astonishment at the impossible sight that met him. 

Kanda. The stoic, emotionless, completely implacable Kanda was …was…. 

_Blushing!_  

Whilst it was true that anyone who didn’t spend nearly every available, conceivable opportunity observing the man’s face wouldn’t have noticed…it was definitely there. An almost imperceptible flush across his cheeks. 

Needless to say, Allen was transfixed. 

They stood like this for perhaps a minute longer before, wordlessly, Kanda sheathed his katana and moved towards the door. 

'I…idiot'. He whispered. And then he was gone. 

Leaving Allen to stare mutely after him. Not entirely able to fathom the implication of what had just happened. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention previously that this is completely un-beta'd, so please forgive any glaring errors. There are only so many times one can re-read a piece before one begins to go cross-eyed!


	4. To observe is to change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own anything.
> 
> Continue enjoying. (Hopefully)

4\. To observe is to change

 

Allen Walker was an observer. He spent nearly every waking moment perceiving and analysing his environment and those it encompassed, every nuance, every peculiarity, and every subtle alteration. 

And, alas, the not so subtle ones as well. 

For the entirety of their strained breakfast so far, the object of his recent decadent contemplations, destroyer of innocent bedroom furnishings and major contributor to his possible mental breakdown had been staring at him. Openly. With not even the slightest hint of subtlety. 

Allen was fast coming to the conclusion that he did not like to be observed. 

Sighing loudly into his oatmeal, he risked another furtive glance upwards, and sure enough, was met by a pair of ebony eyes fixated on his face. Above those piercing eyes, Kanda’s perfect (of course) eyebrows were arched sharply upwards, lending an expression of intense puzzlement to the usually apathetic façade. Allen wasn’t entirely sure which disquieted him more, the penetrating gaze itself, or the fact that Kanda was actually seriously _thinking_ about something.  

For Kanda's part, he was honestly and exasperatingly perplexed. After the...incident the previous evening, he had found sleeping to be nigh on impossible. He was completely unable to get the Moyashi’s comments out of his head. For almost a year the brat had been an irritating enigma-a naïve clown that smiled no matter the situation and spouted nonsense about saving people, and friends and _feelings._ He’d wanted to slice him into fragments the moment he’d met him. And yet, _and yet_ over time, without even really paying attention, he’d noticed what bullshit that all was.  

He'd come to see that just like the clown he was, almost everything about the bean was false. He wore it all like make up; his smile, his words, his whole demeanour. 

Beneath this mask was a cocktail of doubt and hatred and an intense self-loathing that was so reminiscent of Kanda's own that it cut him to the quick. Without really meaning to, and certainly without wanting to he found that he understood the boy and empathised (a feeling he wasn't entirely sure he fully understood) with him on a level he'd never truly experienced since Alma had been in his life. 

They...complemented each other somehow. He could read his thoughts and his movements to the letter, his own brusque and violent personality bounced off of and synchronised with the Moyashi's patience and gentleness-the deficiencies within one's personalities completing and offsetting the inadequacies in the other. 

He'd come to accept and somehow expect the others presence as a constant in his world, the Moyashi's tormented spirit a justification and validation for his own questionable existence. 

It helped, he'd had to admit over time, that the boy wasn't exactly unappealing. Those soft, slightly effeminate features belying the strong and sadistic person underneath, his pale almost transparent white a pleasing contrast to Kanda's gruff and steadfast black. 

He imagined that, unbridled by the brat's constant need to perform and deceive, that conceivably, he could be considered breathtaking. 

As these musings almost painfully coalesced into a single truth inside his reluctant mind, Kanda found himself filled with an unusual emotion; curiosity. Like testing the edge on his blade, he needed to prove the validity of his new-found understanding (an unnatural concept in and of itself), and as with everything Kanda did, hid did this directly without tact or subtlety of any degree. Standing swiftly, he leant over the table, and in one fluid motion, knocked the focus of his musing's breakfast to the floor. 

The result was immediate...and satisfying. 

The Moyashi's face was a kaleidoscope of emotion: shock, disbelief transitioning swiftly into irritation and settling for rage as Kanda sat down, unperturbed, and resumed his microscopic examination of Allen's head. 

Allen had had enough, he really had. From the disturbing realisation that he was attracted to an emotionally stunted bastard, to having his room demolished for daring to compliment said bastard, to this most unforgivable of slights:the unwarranted destruction of his food...he just couldn't take it anymore. Slamming his hands onto the table, and readying himself to deliver a most cutting admonishment, he raised his head to do verbal battle...and was stopped mid insult.  

For a few agonising seconds, his brain couldn't comprehend what his eyes were seeing. The apathetic, stoic, evil bastard of a man opposite him was ...was... _smiling_ at him. Openly, unabashedly and ferally grinning at him. It was wholly unsettling and damn it all to hell if it was not the single most bewitching bloody thing he'd ever seen in his life. His poor beleaguered brain chose this moment to close up shop and leave, taking all coherent thought with it. Unable even to form words, he stuttered out a strangled squeak and yet again hastened out of the dining hall bewildered, embarrassed and sorely wishing that he'd never set eyes on that hateful samurai. 

Said samurai was smiling to himself as he finished the cold dregs of his soba. The table was now comfortably empty (apparently the devastating effect of a grinning homicidal maniac was not limited to slightly infatuated beansprouts) and he was feeling oddly _content._ As he had rightly surmised, stripped of all that fake courtesy, emotions laid honest and bare to the world (the fact that they weren't entirely favourable emotions notwithstanding), the white haired boy was completely and inarguably delectable. 

And in complete contrast to the Moyashi's agonising hours of confusion over the realisation of Kanda's godlike attractiveness, the man himself accepted and understood his own attraction in less time then it took to toss his used chopsticks into the bin. 

All that remained now was the question of what he was going to do about it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading to this point. The whole thing is quite short, but tis my first attempt at a multi-part fic.
> 
> Cheerio :-)


	5. The observer effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still just own the plot.
> 
> Last actual chapter...enjoy!

5\. The observer effect

 

Alone in the darkness of his room, Allen Walker-the destroyer of time, host to the 14th Noah and master of his own emotions was experiencing a complete and utter mental breakdown. 

What in the world was going on? 

After more than a year of constant and detailed observation, he liked to think himself something of an expert on the beautiful enigma that was Kanda Yuu. However, the events that had transpired during breakfast had him utterly perplexed. The stoic swordsman had been being _playful._ There was no other way to describe his behaviour. And that smile, that smile! On a face so naturally dour and unyielding, the effect had been, in a word, devastating. 

In the last few days, the boy had come to terms, somewhat, with his attraction to the other male and was making his peace with it. He had not considered, for a moment the idea of voicing his attraction and the concept of actually acting on it was not even remotely in the realms of possibility. 

None the less, Kanda's expression had been, undeniably...suggestive. 

If the inarguably most attractive individual on the planet had somehow discovered the ability to flirt, well then, Allen was wholly and completely doomed as was the rest of civilisation. 

Of course, it was entirely believable that Kanda had developed a new method of antagonising him. To be honest, he'd been less than subtle in his observation of the samurai recently, and Kanda, as stupid as he was, could not have helped but notice this fact. The worrying aspect was the idea that Kanda understood the implications of Allen's new and specific interest, and actually had the capacity to react appropriately. 

Walker couldn't, however briefly (and however he secretly really, _really_ wanted to) conceive that Kanda's reaction was born of actual mutual interest, because down that path lay the complete annihilation of his already fragile sanity. 

He'd simply have to assimilate this new aspect of Kanda's beguiling personality, train himself to not have a mini heart attack when his cohort did something unexpected (or in any way suggestive) and ignore the uncomfortable motions in his lower regions whenever such situations occurred. 

With that in mind, he flipped his body over effortlessly, trying to force the blood from said region downwards, towards the head where it was currently most needed, and focused on calming his overwrought mind- by imaging the pacifying effect dragging his fingers through Kanda's long, lustrous hair would evoke. 

The immediate effect was overwhelming dizziness and if possible, even greater emotional discomfort then before. Abandoning his efforts, he collapsed onto the floor, cursing his overly visual imagination. A feeling of irritation towards his inability to reign in his own thoughts, anger at the incorrigible man who was causing all this distress and a general disgust with the whole situation in general left him feeling completely vexed and in dire need of something to pummel. 

Exiting his room in a flurry, he grabbed the first unfortunate soul he came across and forced them to lead him to the training halls. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

On the floor above, Kanda was enjoying (in so far as he enjoyed _anything_ ) a relaxing shower and engaging in the foreign activity of procrastination. 

Today, had been...interesting to say the least. In the space of a few short hours he had realised a heretofore unacknowledged attraction to the sprout, caused the boy to have a psychological meltdown with a smile, and in doing so, had discovered a new and destructive emotional weapon to add to his arsenal. 

He was quite pleased with himself. 

Contrary to popular belief, Kanda was capable of a plethora of emotional responses (albeit, the majority of them lying firmly along the anger spectrum). It was just that unlike the majority of those around him, he didn't spend uncountable hours reflecting on and analysing every little feeling. Simply put, he felt an emotion. He accepted that emotion. He dealt with that emotion. Usually by causing somebody pain.  

The system worked. 

There was one slight deviation to the norm presented by his newest insight, and herein lie the problem. He could, of course, just smack the bean around as usual and go about his day, but somewhere in the underused confines of his mind, he suspected that this approach would not be as satisfying as the alternative. 

It was the implication of an alternative that was currently flummoxing him. 

He'd accepted that Allen's presence in his immediate vicinity was more than tolerable. He could understand that he found the boy aesthetically pleasing. He was completely at home with the sadistic enjoyment teasing the bean to breaking point elicited. He'd even come to terms with the idea that he might actually want to touch him. 

For Kanda, physical contact meant violence. End of. He simply knew no other way. However, the idea that there maybe something other than this, something that would generate an expression on the Moyashi's face other than pain or rage was alien yet oddly...tantalizing. 

He knew he was capable of it. He'd seen Lena's peaceful smile when he'd touched her hand, or Frieolls look of love (as terrifying as that was) when he'd allowed him to touch his hair. Or the gratitude on Alma's face as he'd finally been allowed to die in his arms. 

He knew it was possible, he just didn't understand why. Or how. 

At this point, his overtaxed mind gave up.  

Fuck it.  

He'd find a way to deal with it and that was that. Satisfied that all was resolved, he tied up his dripping hair and headed to the training hall to massacre some emotionally uncomplicated straw dummies. 

He always felt relaxed at the thought of impending violence. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The training hall, however, was not as unoccupied as Kanda had anticipated 

As he'd sorely hoped, unleashing all his pent up fury, confusion and resentment onto an unresisting inanimate object was providing just the balm Allen's bewildered psyche needed. 

He was entirely focused on dissecting the straw opponent in front of him into a thousand microscopical pieces, and as such he had no idea that he was no longer alone in the room. 

Kanda had marched purposefully into the hall, Mugen at the ready and had stopped short when he noticed the object of his recent cerebral undertakings in mid-swing. 

The boy was focused on his training, his movements precise and unhurried, each blow and slash perfectly delivered and controlled. Years of circus acrobatics made evident by the unusual grace and litheness with which he carried himself. 

Kanda could appreciate aesthetic beauty, and there was nothing he appreciated more than the aesthetics of well executed violence in motion. 

Thus he allowed himself a few guilty seconds to observe and appreciate the sight before him. However, his newly acknowledged attraction to the Moyashi coupled with his inherent love of violence was creating a bizarre pressure in his stomach and a very strong desire to _touch._ Something clicked in his brain. Whilst he'd ascertained that beating the bean to a pulp was not an acceptable approach, it didn't mean that aggression in itself was entirely the wrong course of action. 

'Oi.' He growled, in greeting. 

It was he last sound in the world that Allen wanted to hear right now. A very large part of him wanted to ignore the voice and continue with what he was doing, but unfortunately, his courteous nature being what it was, that was impossible. Breathing and scowling deeply, he turned round to face the bane of his existence. 

'Oh just wonderful. You know, Bakanda, your sense of timing...' The rest went unsaid as Kanda grabbed him, pulled him forward and kissed him. 

Violently. 

It was brief but enough. Releasing him, Kanda stepped back and looked at him expectantly. He was not disappointed as the beans face became a stage for a quick-fire succession of emotion-shock, anger, something...new... and then...nothing. 

Kanda's eyebrows quirked irritably. 

'What was that?' Allen asked, flatly. 

'What the fuck do you think it was.' Was the obvious response, delivered with a smirk. 

'Fine. Right. Let's try again. Why...was that?' He finished awkwardly, his control visibly suffering at the onslaught of Kanda's devilish smile. 

'I wanted to.' The man shrugged, nonplussed. 

'And I get no say in the matter? Has your brain finally stopped functioning altogether?' 

This stymied Kanda momentarily. The slight notwithstanding, the reply was unexpected. He hadn't really thought about the Moyashi's opinion. It had seemed pretty obvious that he was interested; he'd been staring non-stop for the last few days and had even called him beautiful. Hell he'd _admitted_ that he found him attractive. As with most things that Kanda didn't fully understand he chose to ignore it. 

'I want to touch you.' He said, stepping closer, stopping only to observe the interesting effect of Allen's' normally pale countenance being supplanted by a pink flush. 

'Wh..what?! He squeaked. 'You want to what? Why would..I mean but...I mean what?!' It was again all too much. All of the confusing, bubbling emotion he'd been pushing down resurfaced, added to by a fresh assault by his libido.  

An attack by an army of level 4 akuma complete with their own Noah would have been exceedingly welcome right now. 

Kanda couldn't count patience as one of his few virtues, and what he did have was wearing thin. Conversation was also not something he excelled in. He was a man of action. Thus, growling in annoyance, he grabbed the brat and kissed him again, longer and more confidently this time. 

'Che. You said I was attractive and you've been fucking staring holes in my face. What's the problem, Moyashi, scared?' 

'It's Allen.' he fired back, automatically. 'I'm not sca...that's not the point. Yes. I did say that I found you attractive, but correct me if I'm wrong, didn't _you_ say that you didn't want to hear that from a _freak_ like me.' He finished, desperately trying to mask the hurt in his voice and the tiny, fledgling hope fluttering across his face. 

'So you're a freak. Deal with it...' The flash of pain across the beans face warned him to stop and twisted something inside Kanda that he really didn't like. Tentatively, he touched the pentacle across Allen's eye. 

'You're a freak but you're...tolerable.' Ghosting his finger down the red line line on the brats face, he continued, not thinking, just speaking. 

'You're damaged but you're appealing.' Pulling him in for another rough, but perfect kiss, he said again: 'I want to touch you. Don't make me repeat myself, Moyashi.' 

This was far from a grand romantic declaration, but...this was Kanda. As he hesitantly entwined his blackened fingers in the man's hair, marveling at it's softness, he looked up at him properly. There was no taunt or lie in Kanda's expression. Just open curiosity and an the hint of a timidness that he'd never dreamed of seeing in the samurai's eyes. 

'So..'he whispered, still slightly unsure. 'We've determined that I'm attracted to you, and apparently you're attracted to me...what do we do about it?' 

The brief timidity was quickly replaced by a challenging smirk that Allen was much more at home with. As the smirk deepened into a feral grin, Allen remembered that _this was_ _Kanda_ and this, whatever _this_ was was not going to be painless. 

'What the fuck do you think, Moyashi?!' 

   
   
 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your continued reading :-)
> 
> Just an epilogue after this.


	6. Epiloge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blah blah, disclaimer, blah.
> 
> Enjoy the epilogue!

6\. Epilogue 

   
  **Allen Walker was an observer**. 

He did not possess a great eye for detail like Lavi, nor did he have Lena’s innate understanding of others.

 

**He simply loved the act of observation**  

He was fascinated by nuances; the idiosyncrasies that made up the world around him and those it encompassed. 

 

**Kanda Yuu was that which he observed.**  

He was a walking duality. Beautiful, enigmatic and so entirely full of idiosyncrasies enough as to last a lifetime. Utterly captivating. 

 

**They say that the act of observation changes that which is observed-it’s known as the observer effect**  

And as the man before him pulled the tie from his wet hair, slowly dragging his fingers through it-the wet strands adhering to the space between his fingers, a playful, suggestive smile playing on his lips… 

 

…Allen couldn’t wait to see if they were right. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading to the end!
> 
> Hope it was enjoyable...maybe comment and let me know??

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my first submission to this site. I appreciate constructive criticism and helpful advice...so reviews are very much welcomed. (hint hint).


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